


Silent Confessions

by DaturaMoon



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, The Witcher - Freeform, The Witcher AU, geralt x oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24452863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaturaMoon/pseuds/DaturaMoon
Summary: Summary: Silent confessions have a way of wearing on the heart. Tamia and Geralt are faced to make amends when they cross paths 8 years after a passionate romance.Warnings: Adult themes 18+, sexual themes, some angst
Relationships: Geralt/oc
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

The last time Tamia saw the Witcher was 8 years ago. He sustained an injury so bad even his tincture couldn't heal it. He was directed to her, the resident healer and rootworker of the town. 

The man was larger than life, almost too large for her quaint cabin. It wasn’t an easy task healing him; the wound was stubborn and so was he. Most times he was in a bad mood, she threatened to kick him out multiple times. 

Then the day came, the day he warmed up to her. Over a pot of soup by the fire, The Witcher began to talk; to open up just a little. That moment changed everything, long awkward silences turned into all-night conversations; both revealed themselves little by little.

By time Geralt's leg healed, the cozy cabin felt like home, and so did she. It wasn’t something he was ready to admit to himself, he knew he had to leave, yet he decided to say. Complaining of phantom aches and pains when he walked, finding any excuse to stay. He wanted to spend more time with her. 

The feeling was mutual, she was fully aware of his improved health. However, as long as he pretended to need her help, she would let him. Everything unfolded at a rapid pace after that. The first time she kissed him came only days later, a kiss he greedily and passionately accepted. That very night, they shared the bed for the first time, finally releasing the weeks of sexual tension. 

They devoured each other; exploring, possessing, and indulging in one another; it was the most passionate affair either of them had ever had. Leaving marks on each other's hearts and souls that would remain long after their bodies returned to the earth. 

The sacred words lingered like a secret on both their tongues, yet neither dared to speak them. The words laced each kiss, embrace, and gaze. Three words so rich, heavy, and powerful; yet both were terrified to speak them.


	2. Further into the distance

This truth scared The Witcher the most. Days before he left, the distance between them grew. Geralt withdrew from her, and so did she in response. It was like time was erased, they were back at the start. The lingering memories of how good things used to be haunting them both like ghosts. 

Their end happened when Tamia confronted him about his distance. No longer interested in giving him a taste of his own medicine, she wanted answers; she needed them. Tamia decided, whatever was going on, they needed to face it.

Geralt remained stoic, stubborn, and reserved. Refusing to give her the slightest peek into why he shut down. Even years later, he recalled the look in her eyes, so willing to fight for him, if only he had given her some truth. Ever the bull, he didn’t. Tired and feeling defeated, she told him to go, that it was over. Geralt drew her close, kissing the top of the head ever so gently as he inhaled her scent, savoring the jasmine in her hair. 

Geralt wanted to hold her forever, but he couldn’t. Instead, he released her, packing his few belongings and exiting the cabin. The air was harsh, colder than he remembered in comparison to the warmth of the cabin. The cabin represented dreams and all that could have been; the outside, reality, and what was. 

On his lonely walk toward the town, Geralt tried to convince himself that this was better. His life wasn't made for this, for her, for the warmth of that cabin. He didn’t want to put her in danger or lose her. This was the better way, and maybe, it wouldn't hurt forever.

Tamia watched him from the doorway as he left; holding back tears as her shoulders shook. Having spent so much of her life alone, she remained guarded to avoid this very situation, heartbreak. No longer able to watch Geralt go further into the distance, she stepped inside, closing the door to the outside.


	3. Passing Time

Years passed and the pain eased. Yet, Geralt remained stained in her heart, in her bones, and in her soul; as she did his. Tamia would hear tales of his adventures. The Witcher even had a travel companion now, his name was Jasper, he wrote the songs which traveled through the land like wildfire. The wounded Witcher she took in years ago was becoming more and more renowned as each year passed. 

It got easier, looking back at her time with him. Yet, it wasn’t free of its issues. It still hurt, in their time together much more than an imprint was left. Still, there was nothing left to do but move on, and that is what she did, what they both did. 

Tamia had other lovers, as she was sure Geralt did too. Yet, none could ever quench the thirst he left behind. She often wondered if he felt the same way. Was he, for all the beautiful women he could get, still craving her? 

As Geralt traveled all over and conquered countless beasts, Tamia's dream came true. After working in various villages, she eventually found a place to call home. A place to live out the rest of her life. A place to build her Apothecary. 

The town of Oyrinda was good to her, she made a good life here. It was a quiet sleepy town, full of trees, rivers, and quaint homes. All of the businesses were family-owned, and the collective energy of the people was calm. The soil was good too, something that was priceless and added value to the town. 

Nothing out of the ordinary happened, it was the same thing day in and day out. It went on this way for years, the town was out of the way and had a very low percentage of magical happenings, despite its history. 

Now, the only magic in the air was of the folklore and storytelling variety. This was something Tamia didn’t mind, in fact, it worked in her favor as her shop became a destination for those seeking magical wares.

When Tamia first moved here, she was met with a mix of warmth and uncertainty. The last time a witch lived here was 25 years ago. Despite that, the town quickly warmed to her; Tamia became family and an essential resident of Oryinda. 

She still dreamed of him, the man who stole her heart and broke it all those years ago. All the same, she was convinced she’d never see him again, convinced Geralt would only exist in her dreams.


	4. Dreams and Memories

Geralt needed a special herb, a rare one that was near impossible to find. After asking around, he was directed to a small shop by the river five hours away. The Witcher, hoping the shop had what he needed, set out on the journey. 

When he arrived the exhaustion made his bones ache. He couldn't recall the last time he slept more than a couple of hours. Geralt was unsure of what about this particular journey made him reflect on the years past, perhaps, maybe, it was the dreams of her. 

The woman who took him in and healed him, the wild dark curls about her beautiful head and the way her hands healed like magic. No matter how deep the pain, all she had to do was lay her hands on him and relief would wash over him; healing him of the aches and giving way to relaxation. 

Geralt thought of Tamia often; the woman with the chestnut brown eyes never left him. All the same, he was thinking of her more than ever these days, Tamia followed him like a ghost of his past. 

Flashback ~

The sun had a way of highlighting the gold tones in her rich chocolate skin. Tamia was a night owl by nature, but her work made it so she rose with the sun and spent most days outside. 

Today, Geralt was outside helping her pick the fresh batch of Lisse du Oros, it was in demand these days and Tamia had the magic touch. This eye-opening flower was hard to cultivate. Others in town have tried, only Tamia was successful. 

The alluring blue flower was believed to open one's inner eye, helping them divine and commune with spirit. The people who searched for such a thing raved about it. Tamia attempted before to get Geralt to try it, he turned the offer down each time. 

As the sun shined on her Geralt watched, admiring the beauty before him as she worked. Singing to the flowers as she checked for the ready ones: lovingly snipping them, placing them in the woven basket. Her orange-red dress spread across the grass as her hands moved expertly. 

“You’re supposed to be helping.” Her voice soft and pulling him back from his trance. 

“I’m shit at this.” 

“Oh your big man hands can only kill mythical creatures, but you can’t do this,” Geralt narrowed his eyes at her, “Fine, don’t help-” she stood and approached him, kneeling as she held up one of the small flowers, “you have a choice. Help or try it.” 

“No.” 

“Help, or try it.” She insisted. 

Geralt begrudgingly picked up the cutting tools, taking a flower into his hands. Tamia looked amused as he cut it wrong and grew frustrated. 

“Not that way.” She sang.

Geralt tried three more times, making clumsy work of it. The poor flowers, she thought. But it was damn amusing watching him. Her disapproving sounds and expressions making it fully clear to him how bad he was at this. 

“Fuck.” Geralt dropped the tool and reached over taking the flower from her hand. “Now what?” 

“It’s edible," Tamia scooted closer and picked a flower from his basket, holding it to her lips. “Just eat it.” 

Geralt exhaled dramatically, but still ate the flower. As he chewed, her warm laughter filled the garden; wrapping around him like a hug. He couldn't stay upset, not with that smile and that laugh. Geralt reached out, his hand around the back of her head as he drew her into a kiss. 

“I don’t need this flower.” He said softly, thumb caressing her cheek.

“Yeah? You have some psychic powers you’ve yet to tell me about?” 

“Your smile is the most exquisite kind of drug to me.” 

Tamia grinned, then kissed him once more. “Keep talking to me like that and I won’t get any work done.” 

Geralt pulled her beneath him, the soft earth under her as his lips met hers once more. 

End of flashback ~

The dreams and memories of Tamia were vivid, full of great detail. Geralt even recalled the way the field smelled, the way she smelled. The way the Lisse du Oros tasted on his tongue, and on her lips when they kissed.


	5. Facing the Past

A lengthy distance from his last destination, the trip to Anivad took its toll on Geralt and Roach. Originally, Geralt planned to leave after obtaining the herb. Now, he longed for a bath, cold ale, and a place to sleep for the night. 

Anivad was a scenic town; this part of the country was known for its fertile land, a fact the residents took full advantage of as almost every home had a small garden of it’s own. The air was clean here, Geralt could feel it as he breathed; it was refreshing. 

Roach slowed down as they rode through the square; with the stroll came the anticipated glances and whispers. Based on first appearances, this town seemed unfamiliar to his kind, or anything of a supernatural nature. 

The small stone shop was just as described. Radiating a warmth which reached out far beyond its doors. An extensive garden full of herbs and flowers spread out from either side of the house. Roses grew around the white door, hanging over it like a crown. 

To the left of the door, a wide window with the same white trimming of the house. Stones of assorted sizes lines the walkway. This building was magical; well protected too. Geralt noticed immediately the protective boundary around it; one that would deter anyone with ill intent. 

The smell of assorted oils, herbs, and spices greeting him as he opens the door. The counter was empty, the shop owner abset. Yet, a familiar smell lingered in his nose. Along with this scent, Geralt was struck by a strange feeling in his gut. 

...

Before he could decipher the strange reactions he was having, a woman rushes in; wiping soil off her hands, eyes cast down. “Sorry to keep you waiting, I was just digging up some Ossianda root, it’s a dirty sweaty job-” she stops dead in her tracks as her eyes grow wide with surprise. 

Geralt's breath catches in his throat, he takes a step forward, “Tamia?” 

“Geralt.” His name soft on her lips. 

The air in the shop is electric. Her brown eyes locked into a stare with his cat-like yellow eyes. Tamia takes a step back, she pulls her gaze away, looking over her shoulder toward the back stairs. It seemed like she was waiting for something. When nothing happened she returned her focus to him, 

“W-what are you doing here?” 

Geralt doesn’t answer right away. Instead he observes her, noticing every fine detail about the Tamia who stood before him now. She looked the same aside from the silver stands in her dark hair. 

He starts, “I-” 

“You need an herb?” She cuts him off before he can finish. 

“Yes.”

She seemed nervous, which was understandable. Still, Geralt couldn't shake the feeling she was hiding something. Tamia backs away from him completely, heading toward the counter, “what do you need?” 

“Calda Mint.” 

Even though her back is turned to him, he could see her shoulders tense up; he knew why. Tamia was well versed on not only herbs and roots, but mythology and supernatural creatures,“No one’s fought one of those and lived, Geralt.” 

Her back still toward him, she gathers a set of keys and heads to the large locked case.   
Before she can unlock it, the floorboards creak, the sound coming from behind her, the same direction she was watching earlier. 

“Dammit,” she mutters, quickly turning on her heels to go to the source of the sound. Too curious to stay where he was, Geralt follows. When he rounds the corner he stops cold, finding Tamia with a young child. 

The child was like none he’d ever seen, even at her young age she had a full head of silver white hair. Her eyes a golden honey color, her skin a carmel brown. The child amazingly seemed unafraid of him, she held none of the anxiousness Tamia was exhibiting. 

“Geralt, please wait outfront.” 

As if some supernatural force pushed him forward, he found himself before the child despite Tamias objections; bending on one knee to get closer to her height. 

In that moment his heart knew the impossible truth. He knew this child was his, no matter how impossible the odds. Seemingly, the small child knew too; smiling softly at Geralt as he observed her. 

“What is your name?” he asks softly, 

“Ophellia.” The rest of the room disappears, Geralt sits down completely, the child comes closer. 

“That’s a lovely name, I’m Geralt.” 

…

_Tamia’s POV _

The room began to spin faster now, she wasnt prepared for this. Not this. Standing behind Geralt she grabs a tuft of his leather sleeve, tugging at it. 

“Geralt, please.” She pleads, he only leans in closer to Ophellia. The two locked into some sort of trance with each other. 

Fuck, he’s not listening to me. She’s not listneing to me - no one os fucking listening to me. 

Her heart races faster as heat flashes over her. Taking a step back, Tamia tries to catch her breath as the panic attack sets in. Geralt notices, standing to help her catch her balance. 

Concerned, Geralt cups her face, looking into her eyes, “Tamia, what is it?” 

“Nothing just, i think - I need to sit -” 

Geralt picks her up, following Ophellias to the bedroom. Placing her on the bed, both stay close as she closes her eyes, catching her breath. After a few moments, she tries to sit but he stops her, “Easy.” 

“Are you okay mommy?” Ophellia asks,

“Yes. I’m fine. Can you get me some water from downstairs?” 

“Yes.” She leaves the room, Tamia keeps her eyes on the door, “You have to go.” 

“Look at me.” When she doesn’t, Geralt grabs her face, making her look at him. “We have to talk about this.” 

“No, we don’t. I know it's not supposed to be possible but it happened; she’s here. I was only with you.” She pauses a moment, then continues, “I know it couldnt work, even if you didn’t leave that day. You’re a Witcher. This - doesnt come along with that.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed, preparing to stand, “ besides, I don’t need anything. I don’t want anything.” 

“You should have told me.” His voice hushed for Ophellias sake, the sound of her small feet approaching on the stairs. 

“How? You left me, remember? Was I supposed to roam around the world looking for you with life in my belly? Let’s just, forget about this.” 

Tamia accepts the water, drinking some before setting it down. She asks Ophellia to give them a moment and go check on their horse. When Ophellia leaves, she takes Geralt down stairs to the shop. 

“I knew this would happen, I just hoped I could control it, I hoped she didn’t see you.” 

“You knew?” 

“The dreams. They started a month ago. In them I get this feeling, a feeling that leads me outside. Then I see you, on a horse. It’s the same everytime. I convinced myself it was just some - subconscious longing or something…” Geralt is quiet, but listening closely “It’s not just me, she had them too. Described you perfectly, ...I never described you, never told her your name. Somehow she still knew.” 

Geralt starts to speak when she grabs the bag, holding it out to him, “I’m sorry, it has to be this way.” 

“Does it?” 

“...yes.” 

“You don’t sound so certain yourself.” 

“Be careful, Geralt. I’ll leave an offering for you; maybe it will help.” When he doesnt take the bag she shoves it into his hands. 

Geralt realizes Tamia was too upset to be reasoned with right now; he had to give her some time. He takes the bag with one hand, using the other to retrieve her payment. 

“No, keep it.” Tamia raises her hand, rejecting the bag.

“This is an expensive and rare plant-” 

“Keep your coin, Geralt.” 

With a raise of his eyebrow, he pretends to put it back. Using the opportunity to slip the bag in her apron pocket when she looks toward the stairs again, Ophellia was spying on them. 

“Where can I get a cold ale and a bed for the night?” 

“Down the road, you’ll see it.” She was pushing him out the door, but her eyes were telling him something else. 

“I’ll have a drink waiting for you. I’ll wait.” 

“Geralt, I can’t” 

“I hope that you can.” 

Disappointed but understanding of her apprehension, Geralt takes one more look at her, and Ophellia’s round face peeking out at them before leaving.


	6. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Thank you to the few who have read this and gave kudos. <3

-Flashback- 

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting light on her left arm as she gazed up at him. Geralt pulled her close, his hand against her lower back; thumb caressing the bare skin. 

“Geralt?” 

“Hmmm?” He hums, closing his eyes. 

“Do you think destiny brought you to my doorstep?” 

“I don’t believe in destiny. I just kill monsters.”

“I do believe in destiny, always have.” 

Geralt opens his eyes, his expression still; she seems to be waiting for something; something he doesn't have. He caresses her cheek before kissing her once more. “I was injured, I needed help, you helped me. That brought me to your doorstep.” 

“One day, you’ll see, watch. Destiny will show itself to you. ” Tamia rolls onto her stomach, his eyes watching the way her bare breast press against the sheet and the curve of her back. Geralt's gaze moves to her lips, tracing the shape with his finger before kissing her. 

Once their lips parted, Geralt closed his eyes and rested his head on her chest. Her heartbeat a song to his ears as a strange feeling stirs inside of him. A feeling that's haunted him for him for weeks now. 

As his hand moved up her stomach to her breast, he teased her nipples feeling them harden. “No more talking.” Pulling her beneath him, “and more of this.” Geralt claims her mouth with his. 

\- Flashback over_   
…

Current Day - Tavern 

Tamia knew she’d regret this in the morning; but she would never forgive herself if she didn’t meet him. There was so much she wanted to say to him; she rehearsed a million versions of this conversion. Now, she sat before him silent; speechless. Drowning herself in her drink, waiting for him to speak first. 

“Ophellia, when did you know?” 

“A month after you left. I wasn’t feeling well - soon I knew why.” 

“I don’t understand how this happened, the elders made sure we can’t produce life.” 

“Yet, somehow, you did, with me.” 

The awkward tension is only magnified by the full tavern. Geralt wished this conversation was happening somewhere more private, “If it's a matter of belief, know I do believe you. I feel it, the truth. I just can’t understand it.” 

“I’m as lost as you are.” 

Geralt stares off, a moment passes, “I went back, a few months later. You were gone.” 

“You did?” Her eyes soften, he nods in agreement. “I moved, I needed a change.” 

“Did you tell her about me, before today?” 

“No. I wanted to protect her. Aside from that, I was hurt...you did break my heart, even though i hate to admit it.” 

“I am sorry I hurt you. Back then I ran, I ran because I couldn't let myself have that - feel that. It seemed better to leave.” 

“Was it?” 

“No. When you knew me before, I was afraid of what I felt, I fought it. Denied it.   
A different man sits before you today, Events have occurred which changed my understanding forever. Events set by destiny, fate; just like you said.” 

“You remember that?” 

“Of course I do. All memories of you are planted in me. Memories so strong I smell you even after all these years.” 

Tamia slouches over the table, letting her head fall into her hands. Geralt caresses her arm. 

“We were in love once, that doesn’t just go away.” Her voice barely above a whisper. 

“You knew?” He asks softly, 

“Of course I did, you didn't have to say it - it was in your eyes, in the way you touched me...that's what made the day you left hurt so much. If you didn’t love me, fine. I can handle that. But to feel that way and still leave, that hurt.” 

His eyes search hers, “Tamia, I loved you since the tiny cabin, all those years ago. I still love you now.” 

His confession surprises her. Sitting up straight, Tamias eyes search his, a small quiver in her lips quiver as she thinks of how to respond. For Geralt, the confession was freeing, he held on to this silent truth for so many years. He wouldn't waste anymore time by keeping to himself, it had to be said aloud. 

Still processing his words, Tamia shifts her gaze down to her hands. Geralt sits beside her, “Talk to me.” 

She looks up at him with moist eyes, her face more relaxed thanks to all the ale, “I still love you too.” 

Feeling his heart swell, Geralt cups the side of her face, pressing his lips against hers. The kiss is sweet, gentle, loving. 

…

The kiss in the taven leads to an invitation for Geralt to stay the night in the room over the shop. Past the yard was another house, a powder blue one that Tamia and Ophellia lived in. To the left, a stable where her horse Ruby lived. 

Upon returning, Tamia leaves Geralt to settle in as she checks on Ophellia and the horses. When she returns, he’s in bed, topless and starting off at the window. 

“I just wanted to see if you needed anything else, Roach is fine, he’s with Ruby.” 

“I don’t need anything.” She tries hard to not to look at his bare chest; an impossible task, he catches her. 

“Okay, sleep well.” Turning to leave, she stops at the sound of her name. Re-entering the candle lit room. 

Geralt stands, closing the space between them as his warm hands cup her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

Geralt responds with a kiss, lifting her off her feet to take her to the bed. Tamia doesn’t resist, the longing in her body for him needing this, wanting this. As her back met the bed, his body weight on top of hers, she felt like she was truly home.

…

In the morning, Tamia wakes first. Leaving the bed to set up the day. Geralt sleeps deeply, the most peaceful rests he’d had in a long time. 

Soon enough, he joins her and Ophellia for breakfast; finally getting properly acquainted with her. As Tamia opens the shop, they bond over cleaning and feeding the horses. A tender moment making Geralt's heart swell. 

Once it was time to leave, sadness sinks in him. 

“I will return, once it’s done.” Geralt says as he pulls them both into a hug. 

“They’re dangerous, Geralt. Be careful.” 

“I will,” he kneels down, smiling at Ophellia, “I promise.” 

“I made this for you, “ Ophellia shows him a woven bracelet,” for protection.” 

“You are magical, Ophellia, I already feel safer.” He lets her put it on and kisses the top of her head before standing again. 

“Safe journey.” Tamia gently kisses his cheek and pulls Ophellia close to her. 

Geralt smiles warmly, mounting Roach and taking one more long look at them. Aside from his own desire to live, he now had two more reasons to come back alive. Destiny gifted him a life he never thought he could have. He promises himself to come back and savor it.


End file.
